My Bloody Seraph
by Crisp-pa
Summary: ~-.One shot.-~ Thinking about my bloody angel, he's so sweet. Too bad he's not what you thought he was. Love is so fragile.


Crisp-pa: Gah. Taking a break from everything else and doing a short one-shot fic. If you can guess whose POV this is in, I'll do you a request fic, Any kind.. And if you can guess who the 'mysterious killed person is' I'll write you a one-shot. Oh, and I suck at lemons. X.c; Just so you know.  
  
Taco: Digimon Tamers is not ours. They belong to Toei Animation. Same for the song Bloody Valentine, it belongs to Good Charlotte.  
  
-.Warning!.- Multiple character deaths. Obsessionism. Philosophies of Heaven and Hell; Angels and Demons. Suicide. Torture.   
  
Inspiration: The fact that I hate all Good Charlotte songs is enough, but, someone left their newest CD over so I decided to humor myself and listen through it to confirm my beliefs that they suck. I fell in love with the song 'Bloody Valentine'. The nature of the song fitted a little fanfiction I had formed in my head so, I thought I'd type it up and add some parts of the song to the story. Hopefully, it'll turn out good and not become a chapter fic. -.Noooo!.-   
  
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§ Unknown first POV. §  
  
"I'll wash my bloody hands.." He turned around to stare at me with his round bright eyes, he knew what I meant, and I sub-consciously let my hopes get the best of me. He knew what I did, I knew it. These looks. He loves me. I know it. He's such an angel, and I'm his archangel. I'm fallen. Jaded. Black. Destroyed. Every bad quality my angel doesn't have. And he knows it. Yet he still loves me. I'm a sinner and he's a saint, my love, my life.. My Obsession. Hair soft as chocolate, eyes warm as my blazing hatred for all whom hurt my angel. Degraded him, hated him, loved him. You can't love an angel. They're too perfect for anyone to even look at. And I couldn't imagine touching my angel. He's too perfect for my deformities to maim his perfection. His sweet innocence. Sometimes, it makes me bleed. Other times it makes me weep. My angel's so easily pained. And I hate it. I'll save him. And I'll wash my bloody hands. Try to clean them to match some little part of his perfection. So I won't feel so guilty to take my angel. He'll love me. I know it. I know he does.  
  
"…But, they're clean.." I took his fragile hands in mine, the skin making me wither away from it's touch. He was too perfect for me. I loved a perfect being. Too perfect for me to love. Too beautiful, too passionate about his beliefs. Me, I was a heartless shell. Just a living soulless creature. It wasn't fair.   
  
My hands may look clean, but they're not. I killed them. And he knows it. Yet, he doesn't run. I know he won't. I love him too much to lose him this far in the game. My malice for anyone who tried to love my angel was too great. No one should touch MY angel. He's too perfect for them. For me. Yet, he'll come to me with my bloody hands. Maybe he can still love me. Maybe.  
  
"I killed them with these hands. Only you can wash them…" Those beautiful crimson eyes locked with mine and I felt my artificial heart flutter. I knew the love there wasn't real, it was materialized. I could only wonder if he knew this too. My angel isn't as all knowing as some other angels. That's why I love him. He won't mock me for my mistakes. He'd probably would make them too. I love my angel. And I love him the most tonight. It's special. I can feel my angel living in his gorgeous body, with his bright, colorful soul. He soars so high. But the chains of other peoples sins drag him down, keep him contained in this middle Hell. If he ties himself to me, he'll fall in the true fiery abyss of Hell. And he'll sit on a flame bitten slab of charred rock, crystalline tears falling down those lightly tinted pale cheeks.   
  
"Please don't cry.. I'll wash my bloody hands." Those sparkling tears rolled down his cheeks as he took my hands and kissed them. Over and over again, kissing each little indention, each little vein, each little patch of tanned flesh he kissed. Those pale pink lips cleansed my bloody hands, washed them free from their sin. He washed my bloody hands. Yet, as I smiled at him, he still cried. I wish I knew why my perfect angel wept. He shouldn't weep. It made my crimson eyed angel look forlorn, worn, battered, beaten. My angel didn't deserve that ugliness. He was too beautiful for a mere thing like salty water to smite his perfection. It didn't need to be like that. It shouldn't be like that. I felt cool air hit my rough hands. And I felt the blood seep back into my skin. My hands will always be bloody. Unless my angel could always be there to hold them, caress them, and kiss away his old lover's blood. He'd have to. I couldn't touch him with my bloody hands. They're too imperfect for him. So unholy, so scarred, so.. Unworthy. I knew I was unworthy of my angel. He was too great for my love. I wish I wasn't the way I am. I wish I was like him. Like his smile, his beauty, his perfect smile, limp sienna hair, bright crimson red eyes, his love for life and everyone in it.   
  
I stood by her bedroom window, she begged me not to do… what I knew I had to do because I loved him so. I wish my love wouldn't cry. His tears make him appear ugly. And I know he's not. He's beautiful. I loved my angel just like I loved the feel of her wriggling beneath me, screaming angel's name to 'save' her. He wouldn't come. My angel had his own life. He shouldn't be tied down by someone as deranged as her. She was a fool. Thinking she could play hard-to-get with my angel's love. She was lucky to get it in the first place. But that foolish game cost her her life. And she'd never see my angel ever again. Never. I'll keep him in my arms forever. No one can touch my angel. No one can devour my angel.   
  
"Oh my love.. Please don't cry." His tears slowed and ran down his pale cheeks. I was so gnarled.. Twisted. Yet here he was, watching me lovingly. I loved my angel so much. I'd die for my angel. Icy water fell on my bare forearms, and suddenly soaked me and my angel. With his invisible aura of his life essence. The rain fell on my angel and his lips quickly turned a faint sky blue color. I brought him close. My divine angel shouldn't be cold. He should be kept warm by his angelic light.. But. Since it didn't, did that mean that my angel wasn't really an angel? Could my angel really be something figuratively like me? No. My angel wouldn't be like me. If he was.. Then, that meant maybe his love for me was a façade. It wasn't real, It was deja vu all over again. I knew we wouldn't start a new life. He was like me, imperfect, maimed, knotted, a sinner.. Just like me.   
  
"Oh my love.. please don't cry. I'll wash my bloody hands and start all over again." My psuedo angel had to die. He had to burn in my fiery pits of Hell. My love for him faded away. I couldn't care. My angel wasn't real. My angel was nonexistent. My angel.. No. He wasn't my angel. He was a fake angel. A metallic angel. A artificial angel. He wasn't real. But he was still my angel. Wasn't he? I did so much for him, I bloodied my hands for his love, should I still take it? Should I still blindly love my psuedo angel? My white psuedo angel.. He looked at me wearily. And I knew what I had to do. I was so in love with that crimson eyed fake angel. I'd love him until the day Hell becomes a solid block of ice. It didn't matter that I'd steal his lovely innocence, it didn't matter that his blood stained my hands. I still loved my Fake Angel. Maybe, one last time, I'll see my love again. Maybe, that pure angel will forgive me for my mistakes. For killing all of them.   
  
I'll never forget his agony when I took his blood, took his innocence from his sweet, lithe, dying body. Maybe, my angel can still forgive me. For them all. All five of them. Now, I realize, their lives were unnecessary wasted. And it's all my fault. I shouldn't have made my fake angel cry with my bloody hands. That harsh blowing rain should have never deceived me into loathing my angel. But, I still love my angel. He's my bloody Valentine. I'll hold him with my bloody hands in my dreams. I'll love him every night. Especially when it rains so hard.. like that night that my angel became my bloody Valentine. 


End file.
